*This is another one of my translations and again, it's from A. Pushkin.
If by life you were deceived,
Donít be dismal, donít be wild!
In the day of grief, be mild
Merry days will come, believe.
The heart is living in tomorrow;
Present is dejected here;
In a moment, passes sorrow;
That which passes will be dear.
†"I will not whole die, my soul in sacred lyre,
will outlive my dust and will escape decay,
And in the moonlit sphere, my glory will not tire
As long as poets still remain" A. Pushkin
[This message has been edited by Master (edited 05-08-2000).]